


Heard It On the Radio

by kailaris_rites_223



Series: Music For the Soul [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (Don't worry it's a fleeting line about smoking weed in college), Allison Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bi Scott, Bi Stiles, Character Mentions, Coming Out In Interview, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Musician Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), POV Stiles, Past Recreational Drug Use, bi characters, hardcore pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 01:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15474960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kailaris_rites_223/pseuds/kailaris_rites_223
Summary: When Scott became big in the music industry, Stiles expected his friendship to basically dissolve. No big shot musician ever ended up staying super close friends with their childhood best friend from a small town in the middle of nowhere, California. But it seems that Stiles seemed to underestimate Scott, which was a pretty rare thing for him.





	Heard It On the Radio

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic here on ao3, but not my first fanfic ever written. I powered through this, finishing at like, 3 am for myself, all because Tyler Posey is in a band and I couldn't help myself tbh.

Stiles shouldn't be as shocked as he was when he heard Scott's radio interview. He really shouldn't; logically, he knew Scott had gotten a big enough rep that there were radio stations that wanted to talk to him. But, considering how Roscoe wasn't a fan of picking up most radio stations, it came as a curveball when Stiles was flipping through the stations and heard Scott's voice, clear as day through his speakers.

"So McCall. Rumors have been spreading that you're taken off the market by a special lady." Stiles furrowed his eyebrows at hearing this. When did this occur? Did Scott start dating someone and not tell him? But Scott always tried to keep him up to date on these things, either through texting, Skype, or Instagram chatting when Scott—on the rare occasions—was out of the country.

Lucky for Stiles, he heard Scott's deep chuckle at the statement. "Well, that would be news to me. I'm pretty sure I'm single, and my best friend could verify that for you." The radio host made a curious noise, as if egging Scott to continue. "And, uh. Yeah, there's no actual dating right now, but..." Stiles felt himself leaning closer to the radio as he drove, and he had a feeling the radio host leaned closer to Scott as well.

"There is someone that I have been harboring some strong romantic feelings for. For a long time, if I'm being honest."

"Oh? Are you in any way inclined to give us more information about this lucky gal?"

"That's the thing." Stiles heard Scott take a deep breath, mumbling something quietly. "To be honest, I kinda feel like this isn't the best way to say it, but I'm going to before I lose my nerve. I'm actually bisexual, and the person I'm harboring feelings for is a guy."

Silence. That was all Stiles could hear from the station. For a moment, he thought that the damn stereo had just turned off on him; it wouldn't be the first time. His heart was beating so loud, it was all he could hear in his ears. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"...So, you're bi?" The radio host seemed a bit hesitant now to ask the question. Even though Scott literally just said it. Stiles felt the frustration at the idiocy of the host swell in his chest, but it was dissipated by Scott's own annoyed sigh.

"I just said I was, but yeah."

Another awkward pause of silence. But then, as if realizing the problem, the radio host immediately picked back up the energy they had before Scott _came out on the radio_. "So! How do you know this lucky guy?" Stiles was eager to hear about this too.

"I, uh, actually know them from my home town. I don't want to say more, because one of my friends will probably do some digging to find this interview and then grill me about it with my exes." The radio host laughed at that, and Stiles couldn't help but grin. Scott was right, after all; that is exactly what Lydia would do.

"Well, the questions I have now are all kind of irrelevant to what fans are probably going to be asking now. So, how about I ask a few. Would that be alright?"

Stiles begged that Scott agreed, begged him to continue answering the questions that Stiles knew he'd never have the balls to say. Thankfully, Scott sighed once more before going, "yeah sure. I'm pretty sure I know what they're gonna be about anyway."

And so the radio host started. "What part of you compelled yourself to come out as bi?" A moment of contemplative silence that Stiles knew meant Scott was thinking happened before he responded.

"Honestly? Part of it is that there is so little coverage of bi and pan celebrities, especially those of ethnic and racial minorities, so part of it was that I kind of thought about what I would have wanted to hear as a kid or teenager just figuring this stuff all out. The other part was just the whole 'rip off the bandaid' feeling. Like, I know I'm going to lose fans because of this. And to be honest? That's okay with me, because I don't want any homophobic or biphobic assholes encroaching on this thing I enjoy and use as a way to express my feelings."

"When did you figure out you were bi?"

A chuckle came from Scott that sent a shudder down Stiles' spine. "Okay, so, there is a funny story to this, that kinda has multiple parts. So, because of a lot of shit going on with anger issues in my sophomore year-"

Stiles gave a snort, mumbling, "anger issues my ass, more like werewolf issues."

"-my grades were terrible, and the coach for the lacrosse team was kinda depending on me a bit, as co-captain, so I wasn't allowed to go the Winter Formal that year. And, well, I was kinda head-over-heels for this girl at the time—we were 'taking a break' as she called it—so I kinda snuck into the dance. And there was one kid in my grade who was openly gay, I'm gonna say his name was Eric. So, Coach catches me at the dance, and I drag Eric onto the dance floor and pull him close to me, so I kinda get out of being in trouble. But that's really the start of it all. In that second semester of sophomore year, my best friend and I snuck into a gay club cuz we were trying to prevent someone from doing something really terrible. And, well, this guy from across the bar buys my drink—don't worry, it was a soda."

The radio host laughs along with Scott at that, and Stiles remembers the indignation he felt at Scott's drinking getting paid for but not his. Mixed with a bit of jealousy, now that he looked back on the memory with more open eyes to his feelings. "And I remember...feeling really giddy about it. And just, it was small signs here and there. What really hit me was in my Junior year, my friend, gonna call him Fred, came into my house one night. And, well, Fred kinda didn't have a place to stay, so he was asking to stay. But it had been pouring down rain that night, and I just remember staring at his chest; he was wearing a white t-shirt and dark jeans, and, well, the soaked t-shirt sure as hell didn't hide anything. And, well, that was when I officially knew."

"That was...rather interesting, to say the least," the host stated, humor laced in their tone. "So, have any of your romantic songs been about this special guy?"

"Yeah, actually. Not the first few. The first few were written when I was in high school, so they're about my first love, and then the girlfriend I had after that. Mainly my first love, if I'm being honest." Stiles snorted, remembering Scott's room being filled with crumpled paper as he tried writing down songs about Allison to vent his own frustration and hurt. "And then, as I realized my feelings for this guy, the songs just...started shifting. I remember the first time I wrote the pronoun 'he' in my songs, and I kinda went into an anxiety attack and scrapped the whole song."

Stiles felt his heart clench at hearing that. This whole thing was news to him, and it was making his head spin. But he was going to hear the rest of this interview, dammit, even if he had to go into the Sheriff Station with an earbud in one ear while it played on his phone.

"So any time I wanted to write about this guy, I changed the pronoun from 'he' or 'him' to 'they' and 'them'. Surprisingly, not a lot of people noticed when I stopped singing about a specific girl, and rather left the person I was singing about vague." There was a pause that Stiles knew meant Scott was probably shrugging his shoulders. "The fans probably enjoyed it because it makes it seem like I'm possibly talking about them, maybe? I don't know how my fans think, if I'm being honest."

"Final question, I promise. Then we'll play your newest hit on the radio. Do you ever plan on telling this person how you feel?"

Stiles' breath hitched as this question was met with silence. He was now just sitting in the parking lot of the Sheriff Station, gripping his steering wheel the tightest he ever has before. He realized he needed this answer; he needed to hear these words from Scott. They held the utmost importance to Stiles, but he didn't exactly have a real reason behind it. There was the underlining reason he always had but he knew that Scott probably wasn't talking about him, so he couldn't really place why this was so important to Stiles.

"I mean...eventually. To be honest, I'm kinda terrified of telling him. There's so many things we've gone through, and I just...I don't wanna fuck up our relationship."

"Well, I know I'm rooting for you, and I bet plenty of fans are as well. Thank you so much for coming on the show with us here today. Listeners, that was Scott McCall. And now, here is his newest hit,  _'Starlight'_."

The familiar track started to play through Stiles' shit stereos, all Stiles could think about was the new information Scott had just revealed. His best friend, whom Stiles had known since he was 4, who was a shit liar and terrible at keeping secrets most of the time, hid the fact that he was bi for  _years._  Like, for fuck's sake, Scott didn't even tell him when they went to  _college._ The knowledge just kept spinning around in Stiles' head, and he really couldn't stop it. He glanced down at the clock and  _fuck he needed to head inside_.

Stiles quickly exited Roscoe, closing the door of the blue Jeep quickly as he grabbed his phone and walked into the Sheriff Station. "Hey Sheriff," was the greeting Stiles gave Parrish as he walked through the door.

"Hey Stilinski," the older officer greeted with a smile as Stiles took the desk that used to be Parrish's when Stiles was in high school. "You were almost late."

Stiles started up his computer, grateful that they had  _finally_  opted for newer, quicker ones. "I know, I know. Just...heard something a little shocking before I got to work."

Parrish's face instantly focused on Stiles, concern written across it. "Is everything alright? Nothing wrong with Scott, right?" Stiles couldn't help but snort at that.

"Oh, there's  _nothing_  wrong." He knew his tone was a bit sardonic, but Stiles was kind of hurt about how Scott kept this from him. Especially considering Stiles had told Scott that  _he_ was bi by their freshman year of college. And Stiles had to hear it in a radio interview. Wanting to shift topics, Stiles asked, "got anything for me to do at the moment?"

The day kind of went by in a blur. Stiles remembered his Dad coming in, grinning at Parrish and holding Stiles' lunch, that proud grin he always had on his face as he patted Stiles' shoulder at his deputy desk. Stiles couldn't help but grin back at his Dad, considering how many cases were being solved with both Stiles and Parrish on the job. Knowing a bunch about the supernatural helped a fuck ton when you were one of the deputies, Stiles figured out.

At the end of the day, Parrish placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Go home Stiles. Get some rest. Don't think I haven't noticed how tense you've been today." The brunet sighed, lifting his head to look at Parish.

"Has it really been that obvious?" The sheriff nodded his head.

"Yes. So  _go home_." With how insistent Parrish seemed, Stiles saw no point in arguing.

He grabbed all his stuff before he headed back to Roscoe. Once settled in, he pressed his forehead on the steering wheel, taking a deep breath. All Stiles had been thinking about was what Scott said, and when he got home, he was planning on texting Scott about this. He pressed down on the clutch and started his car, getting into first gear before driving out towards his apartment.

Stiles unlocked the door once he reached to his apartment, sighing as he set his jacket on the back of the chair at the counter. He saw takeout on the counter and furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't remember inviting anyone over for that night. He gave a shrug, knowing that Parrish probably texted Lydia to bring food over for Stiles. He grabbed a container and a fork, ready to dig in and watch some mindless nature documentary, but froze when he saw who was sitting on his couch.

Scott looked up at him with that crooked grin of his, and Stiles felt his heart speed up. It was as if thinking of Scott all day had conjured him here. As if Stiles had wished enough that Scott had been talking about him in that interview, and now here Scott was, going to confess his feelings in this dorky, romantic way he had. But that stuff only happened in romcoms, and their life was far from being a romcom.

"Hey. I still have the key you gave me, and I needed a place to stay, so..." Scott bit his bottom lip, and Stiles knew his eyes were glued to the movement. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the dryness in the back of his throat—to no avail.

"So," he started, taking a bite of the fried rice in the container before continuing. "How long are you staying?"

Scott looked at his feet, which Stiles just now realized were only sock-clad, meaning that he had been here for a while already. "I was planning on staying in town for, like, a month."

A month. Scott was back in Beacon Hills for a whole month. When Scott had gone down to LA to try to hit it off in the music industry, Beacon Hills had quieted down a bit. Now, that wasn't to say that weird supernatural shit didn't happen; it was Beacon Hills, this place was always going to have that. But without the presence of a True Alpha, but still having his pack protecting the area, it tended to keep away some of the pretty bad stuff. Now, a month wasn't a whole lot of time for anything bad to happen, but it was longer than Scott usually stayed. Stiles got his best friend for a whole month, right here in person.

He took a few steps forward and bent down to place his container on the coffee table, before grabbing Scott's bicep and pulling the werewolf to his feet. Scott grinned contently at Stiles, and he felt this squeezing in his chest at the crooked smile on his face as Stiles pulled him in for a tight hug.

"I missed you man," Stiles stated into Scott's shoulder, hands clenching a bit tighter than usual to Scott's shirt. He ignored the fact that Scott smelled like his shampoo and body soap; instead, he was just reveling in the fact that his best friend was right there in his arms.

"I know. Missed you too Stiles," Scott murmured back. Stiles was a good enough friend to know to ignore the fact that Scott was scenting him. A part of Stiles' brain—the traitor part—wondered if Scott purposely used Stiles' shampoo and body wash so he could smell like him. He didn't say any of this out loud, for obvious reasons, but it was still there, churning in Stiles' mind.

Speaking of something churning in Stiles' mind.

He pulled back after a bit, biting the inside of his cheek when he saw Scott's face fall. "Hey, I gotta talk to you about something. You might wanna sit down." Scott nodded his head solemnly, sitting down on the couch like he was earlier. Stiles followed his lead, leaning forward to grab the carton of fried rice before he spoke.

"I heard your interview earlier today," Stiles started in a neutral tone, eyes focused on Scott's face to see his reaction. The registration of the statement was instantaneous, as Scott's whole body stiffened and his eyes grew a fraction wider, as if he was analyzing all his escape routes. It was a look Stiles had seen many times in their high school and college careers. "My main question is this." Stiles, feeling a bit nauseous, set down the carton once more before looking in Scott's puppy-dog brown eyes once more. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

 _Why did I have to find out years down the road? Why did I have to hear it on the radio, instead of in person? Why didn't you tell me sooner? Have you always kept stuff like this from me?_ These questions churned in Stiles' head, sitting on the tip of his tongue. He hoped he didn't have to actually ask them; that Scott had a viable reason behind keeping it to himself. Stiles just hoped he wasn't the last one to figure out.

"I..." Scott's hands were tugging on the edge of his sweater nervously. Stiles didn't remember that being a nervous habit of his before; must have developed while Scott was performing. "I just...I don't know, if I'm being honest. I felt...I felt scared to. I know that sounds really fucking stupid, so don't give me that look. It's just...there was so much going on at the time I actually— _finally_ —figured it out, with the nogitsune and all, and I just...I never got around to it."

"Did you have any boyfriends that you didn't tell me about?" For some reason, this question tasted sour coming out of Stiles' mouth.

Stiles remembered his first boyfriend; he was tall, with vibrantly dyed green hair and lots of piercings. He wore tight skinny jeans and torn denim vests, and he smoked weed and made out with Stiles a bunch while they were both high. He remembers telling Scott about him, grin wide as he realized that he wasn't unattractive, it was just that everyone in Beacon Hills had seen him through his worst phases of life, while college only saw the best phases. Scott had grinned at Stiles, told him congrats, and had asked if he wanted to go on a double date with Scott and Kira. Stiles remembered getting dumped after about 6 months, and how much it had hurt. Scott had been there, hugging him tightly and being a comforting presence as Stiles let his feelings wash over him. The idea that Scott had gone through this by himself hurt Stiles more than he cared to admit. That Scott had done all these things without telling his best friend, when Stiles had told him everything.

Then, to Stiles' relief, Scott shook his head. "No, no. I...I thought about it, a few times. Looked at guys at the places we went to, and debated going over there and flirting. But none of them really caught my eye."

"Not like the guy you like," Stiles stated slowly. Scott bit his bottom lip once more before slowly nodding his head in agreement. "So. This guy. Do you just like him? Or are you in love with him?"

A heavy silence settled between them. Scott was looking at the edge of his sweater when he answered, voice quiet, yet cutting through the silence like a bullet. "I'm in love with him." Stiles felt his stomach clench, and he stood up fast to his feet, causing Scott's eyes to widen.

"Well, I'm exhausted Scott." Stiles looked down at Scott, and silently begged that the werewolf wasn't smelling his chemical signals right now. It would be all over for Stiles if he could. At least it wasn't a lie; Stiles really was exhausted, both mentally and physically. "I'm going to shower and then head for bed. Night." He walked around the couch, running a hand through Scott's fluffy black hair as he walked behind him, causing the other to look back at him with a grin. "The guest room is all yours Scotty."

Stiles was almost to his bedroom when Scott called out, "Hey Stiles!" Stiles turned his head back, to see Scott still on the couch, but grinning that soft crooked grin of his that made Stiles' heart melt. "Thanks. For understanding."

"That's what best friends are for Scotty." And with that, Stiles went into his room.

He fell back against the door right after closing it, letting a breath out he didn't realize he was holding as he pressed his back against the door. He didn't say anything, knowing that Scott was probably listening in to what he was doing with that heightened werewolf hearing of his. So, instead of focusing on the information that had been dumped onto Stiles that day, Stiles just went through his nightly routine. He showered, trying to block out the knowledge in his mind that Scott had probably just gone here to shower instead of the guest bathroom. He then pulled on his sleeping sweats and an old t-shirt that Stiles was 85% sure was actually Scott's and brushed his teeth. Afterwards, he took his nightly melatonin pills—even in his 20s, Stiles is still dealing with insomnia, and had become semi-dependent on the melatonin, if he's being honest—and got settled into his bed.

After about an hour of staring at the ceiling, Stiles felt his eyes flutter close. Thankfully, he didn't have a dream; he didn't need one of the nightmares that occur usually once a week, and hopefully they didn't occur when Scott was over. He didn't need Scott worrying over his sleeping schedule once more, especially considering that they were both adults. Instead, that next morning—and thank God it was a Saturday, he had the weekends off—when he got up to make coffee after taking his morning Ritalin and Zoloft and brushing his teeth, Scott was already in the kitchen, a pot already made while he was making breakfast.

"Have I told you how amazing you are?" Stiles asked when he walked past Scott to grab the pot and a mug. He saw a mug was next to Scott, and leaning over, he saw that it was tea instead of coffee. Which was new, since Stiles didn't remember Scott ever being really big on drinking coffee  _or_ tea the last time Scott was here.

As if sensing Stiles' confusion, Scott turned his head from where his gaze had been focused on what Stiles now saw was pancakes, to smile at the brunet human. Stiles was glad he wasn't more awake, as he had a feeling that his stomach would have suddenly dropped at that. Instead, Stiles took a sip as Scott responded to him.

"Not nearly enough," Scott started with a smirk. He then added, "And I started drinking tea when I started going for interviews and such, considering I've had to do stuff on days of the full moon, and it helped calm me down a good amount. And while some teas have more caffeine than coffee, they tend to be a lot better for you and are known to be a bit more calming." He said this last part with an eyebrow raised at Stiles, which resulted in the latter flipping him off. Scott's bounding laughter in response was probably the best sound Stiles had heard this past week, if he was being honest.

All these feelings washing over Stiles weren't new. Not even in the slightest. Stiles had had a thing for Scott since the end of their Senior year. At first, it had been a silly crush that he didn't pay attention to. Which was the reason he had gotten his first boyfriend that year. But when Stiles was being told by his ex-boyfriend that he was too dependent on Scott for their relationship to work, and Scott was there to pick up the pieces of Stiles' cracked heart, is when it hit him how much he cared for Scott. And, well, as they say, absence tends to make the heart fonder.

It isn't like they don't  _talk_. They do, all the time. But Scott is always busy with his life as being a music celebrity, that Stiles had feared, at the beginning, that Scott would leave Stiles behind in the dust of their little town in California, Beacon Hills just an unpleasant high school experience. Obviously, Stiles had pulled what he liked to call a  _"Derek"_ , as he underestimated Scott. Why he thought Scott would just leave him behind, Stiles would chalk it up to the anxiety he had. What really happened was that Scott had made all means of contact open to him 24/7 with Stiles, only their job schedules keeping them from really talking whenever.

"So, what kinda pancakes you makin' Scotty?" Stiles sat on the counter next to Scott and swung his legs, just like he used to when they were younger and Melissa would make them pancakes after a sleepover. That was when everything was simple; before Stiles' Mom died, before Scott's Dad left, and before the whole werewolf thing.

"Your favorite. Buttermilk chocolate chip." Stiles looked up at the ceiling, so thankful for whoever or whatever brought Scott McCall into his life.

"Can I keep you? Can you record here in Beacon Hills?" Only part of him was joking, and Scott knew that, but they both laughed anyway at the joke.

"You just want me for my breakfast skills." Stiles gave a mock gasp of offense, pressing the hand not holding his Star Wars coffee mug to his chest.

"How dare you insinuate something that is absolutely true." They both burst into laughter once more, and it felt like they were 13 again, instead of the actual 24 years old they were.

After that, a comfortable silence settled between them. It wasn't often that Stiles was comfortable enough around someone that he didn't feel the need to fill the silence; it was a rare group of people. At the top of that list was Scott McCall. Just like he was at the top of all the lists Stiles had about people who made him comfortable to do things. Comfortable to be loud and obnoxious. Comfortable enough to be relaxed and tired. Comfortable enough to give a key to his apartment to. It just showed how much Scott meant to Stiles, and Stiles had a strong feeling that Scott knew this too; hopefully, he felt the same level of comfortability as well.

"Well, the pancakes are done," Scott stated, flipping the last one onto the plate. Stiles set his coffee mug down, pushing himself off the counter. He overestimated how steady his legs would be despite just recently waking up, as he almost fell to the floor when he landed. It was Scott's hand wrapping around his waist with lightning speed that kept him from doing exactly that. "Woah there. Don't need one of Beacon Hills' best deputies out of work due to a broken hip."

Despite how fast Stiles' heart was beating with Scott's hand on his waist, he stuck out his tongue down at Scott. "Oh ha ha, very funny McCall."

They ate the pancakes with their fingers, both standing by the counter and giving muffled laughter at each other's puffed out cheeks. They spent the rest of the day watching tv shows and playing video games in their pajamas. And the next few weeks after that seemed to move the same way. When Stiles didn't have work, they tended to spend the day together, acting like the young adults there were instead of the people who had to grow up way too fast due to the trauma they had experienced. During the weekdays, when Stiles had work, Scott made his coffee and would hang out with some of their other friends in Beacon Hills, and then he would bring Stiles' lunch every day, without fail.

After Scott would leave, Parrish would raise his eyebrows in question at Stiles, and Stiles would pretend like he didn't see it in the first place. It didn't matter that Scott doing these simple actions caused Stiles to feel the happiest he has in months. It didn't matter that seeing Scott in the mornings was what never failed to put a smile on Stiles' face every day. It didn't matter that everything that was going on felt so damn domestic between them that Stiles felt like he was being choked; that he had to watch himself constantly so he didn't just pull Scott in for a goodbye kiss before he left for work, or a kiss before Scott left when dropping off his lunch. None of that mattered; Stiles was fine with what they had.

Occasionally, Stiles would come home to see Scott sitting on the couch, notebook on his lap between his legs, guitar settled next to him on the couch, pen in his mouth and crumpled paper scattered across the floor. On those days, Stiles would prepare something nice for Scott and leave it in the microwave, knowing that those days were the ones where Scott was in the zone and didn't want to be disturbed, in case the sudden impulse to write suddenly left after those moments of distraction. And some nights, when Stiles would go to bed, he would dream of what it would be like if they were actually dating. If this domestic bliss that had settled between them ended in Scott pulling Stiles in for a kiss that got so heated that Stiles called in a sick day to spend it rolling in the sheets with Scott; spending the time caressing soft brown skin that held so much strength underneath and pulling sweet moans from Scott's lips. Those would be the morning he'd wake up turned on, but wouldn't do anything due to the knowledge that his best friend was only a bit down the hallway from him.

Everything was domestic bliss that Stiles wished would never end. So, of course, the full moon had to go fuck it all up.

Although Scott had practically mastered staying in control on the full moon, it still caused in him to become more stressed than usual. Stiles had asked for the day off, so he could spend it with Scott, to help keep him company during the day of it. He saw Scott drinking several cups of tea, his leg bouncing rapidly like Stiles' did on a normal basis. He kept trying to write songs throughout the day, but he would growl in frustration and crumple the paper, chucking it as far as he could across the apartment. Stiles was trying his best to read a book, but he wasn't processing any of the information, as his eyes were on Scott throughout the whole day.

As night approached, Scott became a bit more antsy, which Stiles could understand. Derek had told him one time how being outside on the full moon seemed to help more than being locked up once a person could handle that part of themselves. So, when Stiles asks if Scott wants to go out to the preserve, it doesn't surprise him when Scott jumps to his feet to grab his sweater. Stiles rushes a bit, trying to not trip over his own feet as he grabs his own jacket and pulls on his shoes. They get into Roscoe, driving towards the old Hale house. Memories of their high school experience flashed through Stiles' mind, but they were just gonna park there so they could walk through the forest. This time there wouldn't be any dead bodies. At least, Stiles hoped there wouldn't be.

The ride there was silent, Scott still not saying much as the moon rose higher into the dark sky. It was a clear night, so Stiles knew he had to already be feeling the pull of it. It became even more obvious when Scott practically flew out of the car once they arrived, shoving his hands into his jean pockets as he waited for Stiles. Once Stiles started walking, Scott followed, the silence still between them.

"So," Stiles stated, feeling like this silence required to be broken. "You're heading back in a few more days."

Scott nodded his head, frowning a bit. "Yeah." He looked around the forest around them, giving a fond sigh. "I'm gonna miss Beacon Hills."

Stiles gave a snort, drawing Scott's attention to his face. "Why the hell would you miss a small town like this? You're famous now Scott. You could live anywhere in the US. Why settle for fucking weird ass Beacon Hills?"

"Because the people I love live here." Stiles froze for a moment, having forgotten about Scott's lover boy living in Beacon Hills.

"Oh right. Your Mom and all your werewolf buds. And the guy you love." Scott stopped, and when Stiles realized Scott wasn't following, he paused and turned to see Scott looking at him.

"And you." His voice held no reason to argue, but Stiles didn't really feel like listening.

"You talk to me all the time. I'm always one text or one Skype call away, no matter what." He tried to give a small, playful smile, but the look Scott was giving him made it fade. It looked contemplative, like Scott was thinking something over. And Stiles his body freeze all over as the thought that Scott figured it out settled over him like a weight.

"Stiles," Scott stated again, his voice sounding almost like a whine as he stepped closer. Stiles didn't move; he felt like he couldn't. Scott stepped closer and closer until he was right in front of Stiles, so close that Stiles could feel the huff of his breath against his own lips from where Stiles was looking down at Scott and Scott was looking up at him.

"Is this okay?" Scott asked quietly, his voice sounding strained. Stiles couldn't understand why. His own blood was pounding in his ears, and his breath had hitched.

"Is what okay?" He didn't understand what Scott was talking about. Scott closed his eyes for a moment before opening them, bright glowing red irises staring into Stiles' eyes.

" _Stiles_." And that was the crack that broke the dam.

Stiles leaned in, pressing his lips to Scott's. He settled one hand on Scott's shoulder, the other rising up to caress his cheek as their lips were pressed together in a kiss. Scott didn't pull away, but instead brought his hands to settle on Stiles' ribs, causing a shiver to go down Stiles' spine. Stiles knew what those hands could do; he'd seen those claws of Scott's in action, and knew how easily he could let them grow out and cut through Stiles' skin. And yet, they didn't; those nails that could easily tear through skin stayed blunt, even if they pressed gently into his ribs.

The feeling of their lips pressed against each other was probably the best feeling Stiles had ever experienced. It felt right; it felt like coming home after a long day. It felt like waking up to see the love of his life standing in the kitchen, a smile on his face as he made breakfast. It felt like a warm mug of hot cocoa after a cold, rainy winter's day. It felt like everything perfect in Stiles' life had culminated into one feeling, the feeling of Scott's warm body pressed against his own.

When they pulled away, Stiles couldn't help the smile that was on his face. He looked down at Scott, who was staring at him with a dazed look in his eyes. After a few moments, that happiness fell away to despair. He had kissed Scott when he had the least amount of control over his actions. He kissed Scott when he knew Scott loved someone else. He kissed Scott, and therefore their friendship was ruined. He didn't say any of these things aloud, knowing that the moment he did, everything would fall apart. Instead, he guided Scott to Roscoe, silently getting into the car and driving back to his apartment.

When they arrived, Stiles went through his nightly routine and crawled into bed. He stared at the ceiling, thoughts churning in his head of how much he had fucked up. He had messed up this domestic bliss they had settled into, and Scott was leaving in a few days. This could be what finally broke their friendship; Stiles had crossed a line, and he knew that Scott, being who he was, would want to let Stiles down in the easiest way possible. But he would become awkward, and now Stiles knew it would all crumble around him. And it was his own fault.

The next morning, when Stiles woke up for work, the coffee cup was there, as was Scott, but Stiles couldn't meet his eye. He quickly left the apartment, making his way to work and not saying anything to anyone, despite the worried look Parrish gave him. When Scott dropped off his lunch, he gave a mumbled thanks, not looking to meet Scott's face. He missed the sad pout that settled on Scott's face at this action. When he got home, he saw Scott was sitting on the couch, lyric book in his lap, and silently thanked whoever or whatever for giving him a break. He cooked dinner and left Scott's plate in the microwave like always, and went to hide in his room.

Stiles spent the next few days tiptoeing around Scott, not willing to address how he had fucked up everything. On Scott's last day, Stiles was woken up by a slamming of his bedroom door, resulting in his sitting upright, gun in hand pointed at Scott. Who looked pissed at him. He slowly lowered his gun and put it back underneath his extra pillow, sighing as he slouched. He looked down at the cover as Scott sat down on the bed in front of him.

"Okay," Scott started, his tone hard and determined. "What the fuck is your deal? Did you really hate the kiss that much?"

Stiles blinked a few times, trying to process the words that Scott just spoke up in that curt manner he did when he was angry and trying to stay civil. He lifted his head, his nose scrunching up in confusion and his eyebrows furrowing downwards. "Huh?"

Scott rolled his eyes, turning his head to the side for a moment before looking back at Stiles. "Come on Stiles. You can't be that fucking oblivious."

"I...I still don't know what you mean." Scott's nostrils flared as he threw his hands upwards in exasperation.

"And you're the clever one between the two of us!" Stiles watched as he sighed, letting his hands drop down into his lap. "Stiles, I'm not stupid, I get the message. Ever since the full moon this month, you've been avoiding my eye and leaving me alone. I get it. Message received. You don't like me. But I'm not going to let your rejection result in our friendship being ruined."

Stiles couldn't believe what he was hearing. This had to be a dream, or  _something._  "What do you mean my 'rejection'? Scott, I kissed  _you_. On the full moon. That was a dick move, and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it."

Stiles watched Scott cross his arms over his chest and suck in his bottom lip. "So, you wish it didn't happen?"

Stiles stared into those fierce brown eyes that hid glowing alpha red underneath, and while he wanted to lie, he knew he couldn't. He shook his head, giving a sigh as he dropped his head between his shoulders. "No. Even if I fucked up our friendship, I can't say that I wish it didn't happen. I just wish I hadn't done it on the full moon."

"If I'm understanding what you're saying, then kiss me now." Stiles' head shot upwards to look at Scott, honey brown eyes wide in shock. Scott's jaw was set. "If you're saying you regret kissing me on the full moon for some reason you believe is connected to my self-control, despite having done this one a month for 8 years now and having complete control of my senses, then kiss me now."

Stiles just gaped at Scott, unable to process what the werewolf was saying. He didn't move, despite wanting to, resulting in a curse from Scott in Spanish that Stiles didn't exactly understand. "And they say I'm the dumb one," he muttered before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Stiles' own.

Unlike their first kiss, which was controlled and chaste, this one was wild and unreserved, as Scott put his all into it. And Stiles finally let himself fall into it, bring his hands to rest on Scott's shoulders, a whine coming from the back of his throat. It didn't last as long as the first one did, as Scott pulled back after a few moments. Stiles just blinked a few times, swallowing to try to get rid of the dryness that was present once more.

"But...I thought...the guy?" Stiles was beyond coherent words, but as always, Scott understood what he was trying to say. The frustrated look on his face fell away, replaced by that soft crooked smile of his paired with those puppy-dog brown eyes.

"Stiles.  _You_  are that guy. It's the main reason I haven't dated any guys. You're the only one I want to date."

"How long?" Stiles needed to know. He needed to hear that Stiles wasn't the only one pining.

"When you first told me you got a boyfriend," Scott murmured, leaning in close to rest his forehead against Stiles'. "I was so damn jealous, but you were so happy, I couldn't say anything. And by the time we got out of college, my music career kicked off and there just wasn't any perfect time to tell you." He ran his hand over the side of Stiles' face, to which Stiles pressed his cheek into the soft touch, resulting in another smile. "I thought all my gestures spoke enough for me, but apparently, I'm in love with the most oblivious deputy in Beacon Hills."

Stiles' breath hitched as Scott said that last statement. He breathed out, "say it again."

Scott couldn't help the smirk on his face as brown eyes met honey gold. "I, Scott McCall, am in love with you,  _Mieczysław_  'Stiles' Stilinski."

"Jesus Christ Scotty, I love you too." And Scott was leaning in again, and this time, Stiles met him.

They spent minutes to getting to really know the feeling of each other, before Stiles pulled away quickly with a panicked gasp. He looked at Scott's eyes and then darted back to look at the clock, causing Scott to chuckle and lean his head on Stiles' shoulder.

"I called Parrish, told him you'd be out for the day." Stiles couldn't help it then; he burst into laughter. The two men laughed with each other, pressed against one another as they did so.

And when it was time for Scott to leave, as he stood at the apartment doorway, he pulled Stiles against him for a searing kiss that made Stiles' lips numb and his stomach clench in anticipation. When Scott pulled back, he pointed at Stiles' face.

"I'm going to be back here in two weeks. You better have the most mind-blowing, most-perfect first date for the two of us planned, because I've spent this entire damn month wooing you, and you didn't even fucking notice." Stiles leaned forward and gave a snort of laughter against Scott's shoulder, a giant, goofy grin on his face.

"Okay, I get it. Perfect date for Scott and Stiles. Got it."

And, months later, when Stiles gets a text from Lydia to turn on his tv, he sees Scott sitting there for an interview. And he can't help but smile as his best guy, his best friend, is grinning to the host.

"So," the tv host started. Her voice was hopeful as she asked, "are you still single?" Even before she finished the question, Scott was shaking his head.

"Nope." Stiles gave a breathy chuckle at the way Scott emphasized the popping nose of the p. "I'm taken by the most wonderful, clever, hilarious, talented, handsome guy I've ever met. I'm taken by my best friend, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this, honestly, please leave kudos and comments, I thrive off of your opinions! Also, if I've made any grammar/spelling mistakes, please tell me!
> 
> Update: HOLY SHIT GUYS! 100 KUDOS! I genuinely can't thank all of you enough! This means so much to me, and I know it's a piece of fanfic, but thank you guys for enjoying it! And to those who comment, thank you as well! You guys always make me smile! Overall, just a huge thank you!


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